


Like We Never Said Goodbye

by Heavenly_Bodies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:09:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenly_Bodies/pseuds/Heavenly_Bodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, even if you won’t admit it.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He turned putting his body between the demon and the car. This time he didn’t suppress the growl in his voice. “He’s not in his right mind, doesn’t even remember us, even if I wanted to I can’t, won’t, take advantage of him that way.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Meg scoffed, “And what if he wants to?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like We Never Said Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> **AN1:** Takes place during S7E17 “The Born-Again Identity”, but pretty much goes off the grid once they meet up with “Emmanuel” and the whole married thing… so not happening in my fandom bubble.  
>  **AN2:** Title (and in some ways bunny) from _“It’s Like We Never Said Goodbye”_ by Crystal Gayle

~~~~~~~~~

“He still wants you,” Meg’s voice purred.

“What?” Dean snapped at the demon.

“You heard me. Emmanuel- Cas- he still wants you.”

“You’re insane, Meg,” he said as he replaced the nozzle into the gas pump.

“No, that’s dear Sammy.”

Dean barely suppressed a growl, which Meg ignored in favour of looking through the back window at the broken angel in the front seat of the Impala.

She nodded toward the angel. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, even if you won’t admit it.”

He turned putting his body between the demon and the car. This time he didn’t suppress the growl in his voice. “He’s not in his right mind, doesn’t even remember us, even if I wanted to I can’t, won’t, take advantage of him that way.”

Meg scoffed, “And what if he wants to?”

Dean huffed in exasperation and climbed in the driver’s seat.

With an aire of satisfaction Meg walked to the passenger side and slid into the back, her seemingly permanent smirk a little brighter.

\---------

Dean stood in front of the mirror, clutching the cheap Formica hard, cursing nosy demons and amnesiac angels alike. Rest was the last thing he needed. Rest while sharing a room with aforementioned amnesiac angel, even less so. But somehow Meg had gotten to Cas and convinced him that Dean needed rest more than he needed to get to Sam. He would’ve scoffed if he wasn’t so _angry_. Angry at Meg. Angry at Cas. Angry at ‘Emmanuel’. Angry at himself for everything- letting down two of the people he cared about most.

“Dean?” the warm voice of his broken angel called through the door. “Is everything alright?”

Dean closed his eyes and turned on the tap. “Yeah,” he called with what little conviction he could muster, “just…” He couldn’t think of a lie that even sounded possibly true to him. He reached for the mark on his shoulder, Cas’ mark, and squeezed hard. “Yeah,” he all but whispered.

> Dean glared as he pulled the Impala into a rundown Mom and Pop motel, though in all honesty he doubted either “Mom” or “Pop” wanted anything to do with the place at this point. He grudgingly got out of the car and headed for the check-in. “You two behave,” he ordered. He didn’t like leaving Meg alone with the angel; he didn’t trust her to keep her trap shut about Cas, not that he actively trusted her about anything else, either. In a blessfully short time, he was back at the Impala and pulling her into a spot closer to their rooms.
> 
> “Aw, Dean, I didn’t know you cared,” Meg drawled as she took the proffered key from him.
> 
> “Six o’clock,” was all he said in return.
> 
> “Sure, six. We’ll see who isn’t bright-eyed and bushy-tailed come then,” she muttered as Dean walked away.
> 
> Huffing, Dean tossed his duffle onto one of the double beds- his body following it down to the mattress.
> 
> “Dean?”
> 
> Dean pulled his arm from wear it lay, thrown over his eyes, to look at his roommate for the night. “Sorry, did you want this one?” he asked hazily. He was going to have a rough enough night without adding to it.
> 
> “No, Dean, I don’t seem to sleep much… at all,” he said wearily sitting down next to the hunter.
> 
> “Not surprised,” Dean murmured.
> 
> The touch on his brow was tentative, a light passing of smooth knuckles over skin. He hated himself for it, but he leaned into the touch when the fingers came to rest on his temple. God, he missed Cas; the touches that grew to mean so much more, _be_ so much more, before they saved the world and lost Sammy. Then they’d stopped. Cas left and never looked back or so he thought. He’d come to understand why, Cas knew the promise he’d made Sam and that promise held no room for an angel fighting a civil war between the Hosts of Heaven. He just wished Cas had asked him what he wanted. But that was the past, Cas was… not here.
> 
> His eyes sprang open at the press of familiar chapped lips against his brow. He had to bite his lip to keep from whispering the angel’s name, when he saw those normally clear sapphire eyes dark with whirling storms. It had been so long since he’d seen that look in his angel’s eyes; it physically hurt. Dean pushed the angel out of the way as he got up and made for the small bathroom.

“Dean.”

He looked up from the sink to see piercing blue eyes, so knowing and so lost. He tore his eyes away from that welcomingly unsettling gaze and let his hand drop from the reassuring burn. “What is it, Emmanuel?” he made himself spit the foreign name, a reminder that this wasn’t Cas, not his Cas.

He tilted his head in an all too familiar quirk and Dean had to close his eyes to the sight.

“I’m sorry, I thought…” He cleared his throat softly. “Meg seemed to think you reciprocated.”

Dean sighed heavily. “It’s not that,” he admitted quietly.

“It’s Cas.”

Dean nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I caused you pain. It was never my intention,” the tarnished angel stated, reaching out for the hunter; his fingers brushing the scarred flesh on Dean’s arm. To say he felt a jolt of electricity at the touch wouldn’t come close to the same league, let alone ballpark, of what he felt. It was like falling into the Sun, while being charged with every microjoule of electricity in the Earth and skies.

Dean wrenched back from the touch, growling, “Don’t,” angrily.

The angel stared at his fingertips as if seeing them for the first time. He reached out for the burn he’d made a lifetime ago.

“Don’t,” Dean growled again, flinching even further away.

Cas’ eyes bore into his hunter’s. “Please.” 

There was a desperation in his voice Dean had rarely heard before. Pulling his eyes away from the angel’s he exhaled softly, but didn’t move when Cas reached for him a third time.

Reverently, he traced the ridges of his handprint that same sun-searing energy tingling through his body.

Dean’s jaw set at the light exploratory touches, refusing to think they were anything more than curious.

Cas’ eyes flicked between Dean’s pained face and his scar. As his fingers retraced the burned outline of fingertips, he let his palm press down, sliding perfectly into the mark. Blinding white light, horror after horror, and moments of pure ecstasy seemed to envelop the angel. The pieces of his broken memory falling into place. He looked back up at Dean, his face one of pure horror. 

Dean’s eyes were tightly closed. Cas’ touch on the brand he’d left him with always sent a jolt and a comforting thrum though him, and having Cas, yet not having him was almost too much for him to bear; he certainly couldn’t look at the angel who didn’t even remember him.

“Dean,” Cas’ deep voice rumbled, all gravel and earth, and terror.

The fear in his angel’s voice made his eyes snap open. One look into those terrified, anguished eyes and Dean knew… this was **Cas**. “Cas,” he gasped on a dry, humourless chuckle.

The angel backed away, breaking the charged contact. “How… Dean… you can never forgive me… I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” With each uttered phrase he backed further and further away.

“Cas, don’t.” He grabbed the angel’s wrist to keep him close. He’d gone this long thinking he’d never see Castiel again; he wasn’t about to let him walk, or run, away.

“Dean?”

“You are an ass. And a dick with wings. And you royally fucked up.”

Castiel’s head was bowed; with each painfully true statement from his hunter a slight tremor ran unbidden through his body.

The reaction was so slight that had he not had a firm hand still around Cas’ wrist Dean wouldn’t even have noticed. “Cas?” He dipped his head to catch the angel’s tormented eyes. Once he had them locked in a firm gaze, he continued. “You did all that, Cas, but you’re still family. And it’s not like Sam and I haven’t almost screwed the world over once or twice.”

Hope flared behind his tortured eyes. “Dean, I can’t expect you to-”

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean commanded, pulling the angel into a tight hug. “You’re back now. The rest we’ll get through.”

Cas stiffened in Dean’s arms, but the hunter refused to let go until he felt the angel sag against him, and then it was only to reposition his arms around Cas, so he could run his fingers through his dark hair. “I missed you, you bastard,” Dean admitted softly, lowering his head to rest more comfortably on the angel’s shoulder.

Hesitantly, Cas brought his arms up to encircle his hunter, holding onto him, holding onto this moment as if it were the last he’d have.

Dean smiled a little sadly into Cas’ neck, kissing the tender flesh. “Don’t, Cas, just don’t. It won’t make anything better,” he whispered calmly. “I’ve been there, remember.” He kissed Cas’ neck again, enjoying the shiver that went through the angel’s body.

“Dean…”

Dean pulled back and cupped the angel’s face, bringing their foreheads together. “You know I never wanted you to leave.” With that he brought his lips to his angel’s in a kiss that had been almost two years in coming. It was deep and primal; their tongues sliding together in a well-remembered dance.

Castiel’s head swam; after everything that had happened, everything he’d done, Dean still wanted him.

Somehow, Dean managed to walk them to the nearest bed, falling with Cas onto the rough bedspread. “Clothes, so overrated,” Dean panted against Cas’ lips.

His angel took the hint and the next moment they were both naked and on a much softer surface.

“Good call,” Dean breathed as he nipped at Cas’ lips. He could feel a hesitant smile play at the angel’s lips and he fell into it, smiling freely for the first time in what felt like years.

Dean’s fingers stroked down Cas’ face, trailing down the column of his throat to grip roughly at his shoulder, suddenly needing something to hold onto. Soon his lips followed his fingers, kissing and nipping down Castiel’s neck settling in to worry at the flesh where neck met shoulder.

Cas moaned beautifully, arching into the sensation, while pulling Dean’s hips down against his own.

Slowly they rocked together, bellies becoming slicker and slicker with their combined pre-come. After an eternity, Dean’s rough, unsteady voice found his angel’s ear, “Need you… please.”

The pure _need_ in his hunter’s voice burned down to Castiel’s very soul; with a barely suppressed growl he flipped them over pinning Dean beneath him. Painfully slow, Cas kissed his way down Dean’s throat and across his chest to tease a dusky nipple.

Dean arched and moaned Cas’ name; he needed the angel, needed to feel him inside him, needed to know this was real. “Cas,” he begged quietly.

Cas understood instantly what Dean wanted, what he’d already asked for. Slicking his fingers he began to gently open the man he loved, working first one then two, finally three fingers into him. 

Dean was writhing, panting and gasping, his words broken and choked. “Cas, please… oh, God, please, now, please.” He felt Cas’ fingers slip from him as the angel nuzzled and kissed his way back up Dean’s body. 

Lining himself up with Dean’s waiting hole, Cas carefully pressed into him. Dean’s tight heat something he never thought he would, and never wanted to, get used to. It was its own miracle, Castiel’s miracle; something that he knew would be his and his alone.

Dean moaned deep and guttural, the sound starting from his toes, running through his body to escape his open gasping mouth. And it was the most glorious thing Castiel had ever heard. He knew Dean, literally, inside and out, but that sound, that beautiful raw sound never ceased to enthral him- it was truly Divine.

Dean rolled his hips, taking Cas even deeper.

The angel gasped; tears stinging his eyes as the realization that, despite all, Dean still loved and wanted him truly sank in. His hips stuttered and his arms felt suddenly weak. Then Dean called his name cupping his neck and pulling their brows to touch, staring steadfast into his watery blue eyes and whispered, “I love you.”

Hearing the words, so bare and honest, Castiel sobbed, “Dean,” as he emptied himself deep inside his hunter; Dean’s release following close behind.

Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around his angel, holding him through the tremors wracking his body.

Once his shaking stopped and Castiel was in control once more, he spared barely a thought in cleaning them up before being pulled back down to Dean’s chest.

“Mmm, no, you’re staying right here,” he muttered sleepily.

Castiel allowed himself a wan smile as he willingly followed Dean’s sleepy command. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for now he had hope.


End file.
